direction. The difficulty was that they did not so choose. Their
minds had a quite different bent. They were under the spell of
different ideals; all their mental efforts were directed into
different channels. What these different channels were cannot be
in doubt--they were the channels of oriental ecclesiasticism. One
all-significant fact speaks volumes here. It is the fact that, as
Professor Robinson[1] points out, from the time of Boethius (died
524 or 525 A.D.) to that of Dante (1265-1321 A.D.) there was not
a single writer of renown in western Europe who was not a
professional churchman. All the learning of the time, then,
centred in the priesthood. We know that the same condition of
things pertained in Egypt, when science became static there. But,
contrariwise, we have seen that in Greece and early Rome the
scientific workers were largely physicians or professional
teachers; there was scarcely a professional theologian among
them.

Similarly, as we shall see in the Arabic world, where alone there
was progress in the mediaeval epoch, the learned men were, for
the most part, physicians. Now the meaning of this must be
self-evident. The physician naturally "intends" his mind towards
the practicalities. His professional studies tend to make him an
investigator of the operations of nature. He is usually a
sceptic, with a spontaneous interest in practical science. But
the theologian "intends" his mind away from practicalities and
towards mysticism. He is a professional believer in the
supernatural; he discounts the value of merely "natural"
phenomena. His whole attitude of mind is unscientific; the
fundamental tenets of his faith are based on alleged occurrences
which inductive science cannot admit--namely, miracles. And so